Midnight Rose
by RobertBaleChristianDowney
Summary: "I was so excited it had been a while since I'd seen them in person. I came only to find a flooded apartment...and them lying face down in the water..." Rose's jaw trembled and she bit down hard on her lip to get it to stop quivering. "I was so angry and hurt I just wanted to find the murderer and make them suffer as I have."
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: "I own only what's mine"**_

**Midnight Rose**

An angry yellow toothed man bounded after the retreating form of a boy in a black billowing coat. Yellow Teeth doubled over wheezing slightly from the chase before taking out a revolver from his inside jacket pocket and took off once again cursing all the while. Just as he turned the corner of a deserted alleyway a frying pan came swinging around the wall catching him right in the nose and the man yelled out in pain and rage.

When Yellow Teeth caught his bearings, he found himself alone in the alleyway once more and his gun missing. He cursed loudly. They had gotten away again but he swore that would be the last time. As the man trudged away a figure dispatched itself from the opposite wall a distant street light catching the side of the figure's face revealing surprisingly feminine looks and if Yellow Teeth had paid enough attention he would have realized the boy was in fact a woman around the age of 23 or so.

The disguised woman tucked the stolen gun into the back of the manly trousers she sported pulling the button down shirt down over it hiding it perfectly. The mysterious woman slinked through the shadows of every building as she passed not pausing until she found the one she was looking for. She sneaked up the stairs of the house and peeked through the front window smirking when she saw what she'd come for but she very well couldn't use the front door now could she? She was going to have to wall climb to the roof where she would come down the chimney, a skill she'd perfected years ago.

The woman picked up the rope she'd left in a hiding place she'd scouted earlier that day before skillfully scaling the wall by pipe. She quickly made it to the top with ease now ready to avenge her parents. The woman tied the rope to the beginning of the pipe before wrapping it once around her waist. Taking a collective breath she started down the chimney which was despite her small frame a tight fit.

The owner of the house must have known of her intentions because the moment she landed in his kitchen he was there ready to jump her. Just as he went for her she shoved the stolen gun in his face causing him to freeze before suddenly smiling disarmingly.

"What a marvelous surprise but why go to the trouble of using the chimney when the door is working just fine." The man standing before her was older but looked as if he had been quite handsome in his prime.

He was smiling but the worry lines around his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead revealed the hard life he must have led. The woman remained silent even as he studied her closely. "Rose Middleton, correct?" She frowned the supposed killer knew of her identity.

The man chuckled quietly. "Don't look so surprised, my dear. I also know you've been watching me for a while now waiting for the right moment to...strike."

The gun Rose had pointed in his face was shaking badly as she realized she was caught but the man made no move to take it from her. "You think I killed your parents and the truth is I didn't nor do I know who did I'm afraid."

He looked sincere enough for the death of a stranger's parents but something was still off or so it seemed to Rose. "But...but you're a thief, a criminal, and a killer. You killed my parents. All the evidence points to you."

His smile wavered slightly but he didn't move from his relaxed stance, hands shoved in his pockets. "Two out of three, Miss Rose. As I stated before I didn't kill your parents nor have I ever killed before in my life. I may be a well-known thief and grifter but ending another human life..."

He genuinely winced at the implication. "Now that is just something I'd never do...So how's about you lower the gun, girl, I'm not going to hurt you. I might have been a little mad you came through the chimney but since you were under the assumption I killed people you held dear I'll let it slide."

Rose slowly lowered the gun but didn't put it away still rightfully suspicious. "If you didn't kill them, who did?" The man raised his eyebrows questioningly. "What? Do I look like Mr. Know it All to you? I don't have a clue who did it. I'm not a detective and from the looks of it neither are you."

She rolled her eyes at the slight dig at her lack of detective skills. "But you must know something...otherwise they wouldn't have picked you to frame especially if they know you're no killer." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why must there always be a reason for someone to do something. I was targeted randomly same as you." Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. "Just as you said everything happens for a reason there is no random in killing. All killers have ulterior motives, something to gain. Figuring out what that motive is now that's the tough part." He smiled.

"That's very insightful for a girl of your age and inexperience. I'm impressed." Rose cocked the gun, done playing games with him. "Who killed my parents, Malone?"

He raised his hands in surrender paling slightly. "I told you I don't know! Now get out of my house before I call the authorities!" Rose merely smirked not the least bit scared of the threat. "If you call the authorities they'll be arresting us both, me for trespassing you for murder. I can live with that."

Malone decided he wasn't getting anywhere with his threats so he tried a softer approach. "Kid...Rose, I swear on my mother's grave I didn't kill your parents...but I might know who did." He handed her a crumpled piece of paper which she opened to read but he grabbed her wrist.

"Not here, Rose it's not safe. You need to leave now, the guys that killed your parents have deemed me next on their list. Go." As she ran from his house she wondered what a criminal like him had to gain from helping her.

Rose Middleton sighed in defeat, that had been her only lead to her parents' murder. She still wasn't completely convinced he wasn't involved in some way but she could tell she'd already over stayed her welcome.

Her parents had been killed in the little apartment they had rented in London, England. It was an apparent house robbery gone wrong. Most of the apartment had been flooded courteously by the 'Wet Bandit' but strangely nothing was missing. The man she had just talked to had been the alleged Wet Bandit himself, Curtis Malone, a curious fellow indeed. Old newspapers said the flooding of the home after it was robbed was his favorite calling card.

She realized a little late as she was walking down the street that he had never actually denied robbing the apartment only that he didn't commit the murders. Before she realized what she was doing she had turned around, heading back to his house once more despite the threat of him being the next hit. As the house came into view she noticed the door standing wide open with a giant emblem running down the middle, it read LXXIX.

When she reached the front steps she gulped in horror as the emblem was marked in blood. It didn't take a genius to figure out whose blood exactly it was. Right before she called out to Mr. Malone she thought better of it in case the killer was still there. Rose knew the right thing to do would be to call the police but this could be her one chance to catch her parents' killer and she wasn't going to waste it. Again, She pulled the revolver from her back waste band and cocked it readying for a fight if need be.

She stealth fully crouched through the door whirling this way and that looking for the intruder knowing he wouldn't stick around for long but she could never be too careful. When the entire house had been searched thoroughly she went back to where Curtis Malone's body lay no wounds visible and she knew better than to touch a dead body unless she wanted to be arrested for the murder of Curtis Malone.

It was time to call the authorities since there was nothing more she could do for now until she talked to the Scotland Yard Investigators. Wait, how was the emblem written in Malone's blood when she saw no visible wounds to get the blood from...unless something far more sinister and not to mention gross was going on. After calling Scotland Yard she considered bailing but decided against it favoring more information for her parents' murder.

She'd already decided her alibi would be that she was simply going for her usual midnight stroll when she found this stranger's door wide open and a bloody writing marked haughtily down it. She could maybe fake some tears to look the part of a scared woman who just saw her first dead body. Rose sat patiently on the steps of Malone's house until a mouse faced man in a funny looking hat strolled up to her.

She stood as he came closer and he tipped his hat politely to her but stared awkwardly at her attire making her realize she was still wearing men's clothing from her earlier escaped. Rose merely smiled ignoring the stares from the men in official suits who were standing behind mouse faced man.

"Good...um morning? Mr.-Miss uh-" She almost giggled at how incredibly awkward this mousey man was and decided to help him out a little. "_Miss_ Middleton" His ears tinged pink in embarrassment and he looked away.

"Right uh" He cleared his throat. "I'm Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard and I believe an emergency call came from this address?" Rose lost her smile looking dutifully solemn at the reminder of someone's untimely death.

"Yes Inspector." He motioned for her to sit down. "Why don't you explain as best you can what happened." She cleared her throat and took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"I was walking on one of my nightly strolls when I noticed this stranger's door open and curiously went to check it out. When I came closer and I saw the bloody writing I ran inside to use the owner's phone to call Scotland Yard. That was when I noticed him dead as a door nail on the floor."

Rose skillfully faked the shaky voice and trembling hands. Inspector Lestrade was writing in his handy-dandy notebook. One of his men who had gone into the house moments ago strode past her and whispered fiercely into Lestrade's ear who then cast a worried glance at me before looking back again at his man.

Lestrade whispered back but she caught what was said this time. " Clarkie, get Holmes...we need him."

* * *

Clarkie made haste to 221B Baker Street where one Sherlock Holmes resided. He rapped loudly on the door despite the early hour. A flustered older woman opened the door a moment later. "Are you aware it's the middle of the night and some people are trying to sleep."

He knew she had to be speaking of herself because Holmes hardly ever slept at least not at night when you were supposed to. "I apologize Mrs. Hudson but I must speak with Mr. Holmes immediately, the Inspector says its urgent."

Mrs. Hudson narrowed her eyes before finally huffing in resigned agitation. "If you insist but please make it quick!"

Clarkie tipped his hat politely and hurried inside not waiting for her to shut the door and escort him to Mr. Holmes' room. When he reached the appropriate door hand poised to knock he noticed it already cracked open and the room black inside. Clarkie gulped, he hated the dark.

"M-Mr. H-Holmes are you in here? Inspector Lestrade says it's urgent and would like you come with me immediately." Silence followed as Clarkie entered the room the rest of the way letting the door creak open.

"Sir?" Suddenly he felt his foot catch something and he yelped in surprise.

An object came swinging out of the dark hitting Clarkie in the face causing him to jump back and promptly fall flat on his back. He began whirling his arms wildly panicked and beyond reason hoping to hit some part of his supposed attacker.

A hand clamped down on his arm and he went to throw it off when he heard the familiar voice. "Clarkie?" As quick as it came the hand was gone again and suddenly light flooded the room.

There was Holmes standing by the now closed-door in all his glory dressed in...black tights? Then Clarkie noticed the rather odd device wrapped around Holmes' head and eyes making him look much like a big eyed bug of some sort.

"Mr. Holmes if I may? What is that on your head?" Holmes once seemingly frozen body suddenly snapped to life. "What? Oh this? It's just a little invention I've been working on..."

He pulled the impromptu goggles off his head staring offhandedly at it with narrowed eyes. "They're...night vision goggles or they're supposed to be anyway."

He turned abruptly before stalking towards two cages Clarkie had just realized were there. "I've been studying these peculiar creatures for a while now and yet still...nothing."

Clarkie too stared at the owls Holmes was referring to and they were indeed beautiful peculiar animals. Suddenly something darted across the floor accidentally brushing Clarkie's leg who jumped a foot in the air in surprise.

"W-What was that?!" Clarkie's eyes were darting frantically around the room trying to find what did that while Holmes merely stared calmly off into space looking rather bored and lost in thought. Again he snapped to attention.

"Oh Charlie? He's just my uh...fox. He needn't be a bother I assure you." Clarkie's eyes widened in shock. "A-a fox Mr. Holmes?" Holmes' lips quirked upwards his eyes sparkling madly.

"That is indeed what I said Clarkie weren't you listening?" "Blamey! Why on Earth would you need a fox Mr. Holmes?"

Holmes simply rolled his eyes, unimpressed with Clarkie's lack of knowledge yet excited to tell another human being not just his dog Gladstone about new information. "A fox is a nocturnal animal not unlike the owl over there. I've become quite curious of the night dwellers and especially their love of the dark as I'm quite accustomed to it myself..."

Clarkie opened his mouth but Holmes started up again. "Nocturnal creatures like the owl have what scientists would call scotopic lux, or night vision as most call it. It's absolutely marvelous Clarkie! It's vision that is due to the activity of the rods of the retina only; occurring only at very low levels of illumination, detecting differences of brightness but not of hue. Revolutionary I must say! Revolutionary..."

Holmes had a huge smile on his face as he stared off into his imagination while Clarkie continued to look clueless about most of what was just said not that Holmes noticed. Suddenly Holmes' head snapped back to look at him suspiciously.

"Clarkie, why are you here? Can't you see I'm in the middle of a great discovery?" The questions fired at him caught him by surprise as Holmes seemed perfectly alright with his presence just moments before. "Um..."

Holmes narrowed his eyes impatiently. "Well? Spit it out, dear man. I haven't got all night."

Clarkie straightened the hat on his head all business now. "Inspector Lestrade has sent me to fetch you...it's an emergency, sir. The alleged Wet Bandit is dead, killed in his house in the dead of night."

Holmes was already heading to the door. "Why didn't you mention that before you silly man!"

Clarkie stopped him before he got too far. "Sir? Perhaps it'd be best if you changed?" Holmes glanced down at his attire and frowned. "Perhaps you're correct..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Midnight Rose**

Rose had talked over what happened it seemed thousands of times and if she had to repeat it one more time she thought she might explode. She was no longer faking the tiredness and irritation from being up all night and the entire day before.

Lestrade and his men were in a clump discussing the case when two men joined them, one she'd seen before while the other was new to her. The new addition looked a little rough around the edges but still quite handsome and from what she could tell possibly a little too old for her.

The man's dark hair was sticking up in every direction underneath his hat and he had a pipe hanging lazily out of his mouth as smoke puffed out from his lips. His clothes were rugged and worn but the coat he wore looked good on him.

Lestrade must have mentioned Rose because a moment later the other man was glancing curiously in her direction. Lestrade led Holmes over to the only witness they had. "Miss Middleton this is Detective Holmes he would like to speak with you about the victim."

Rose nodded standing up from her position on the front steps. Holmes' eyes stared at her, looking her up and down. "What was your relation to the victim?" Rose shifted uncomfortably the man was putting her on edge for some reason.

The way he looked at her scared her, like he knew every secret she kept hidden. "None, I-I didn't know him." Holmes raised an eyebrow as he puffed more smoke from his pipe. "Is that so? You've never seen him before in your life?" He asked the question like a parent waiting for the child to admit he'd been caught in the lie.

"No never, I was on my midnight stroll when I saw the giant bloody writing on the resident's door and I wanted to make sure the owner was alright." Holmes' facial expression was unreadable. "Well that was mighty kind of you to possibly risk your safety to check on the well being of a complete stranger...You must be American."

She nodded it wasn't that hard to figure out she was American, her behavior and attitude screamed westerner. Holmes smirked crookedly which Rose found irritatingly adorable. "What's a...traveler such as yourself doing taking midnight strolls...it can be quite dangerous on the streets at night especially for a young woman."

She could tell he was poking around for answers and he wanted her to give it to him straight. "There's more to me than meets the eye...Mr. Holmes. I can handle myself in a fight when need be."

Holmes nodded his affirmation. "Of course Miss Middleton forgive me if I insinuated incompetence on your part. I meant no offense to you, merely...polite concern." Rose gave a small smile letting him no he was forgiven.

"Well I appreciate it, Mr. Holmes." He cleared his throat, back to business now. "Mr. Holmes really there isn't any new helpful information for me to give you." Holmes cocked his head. "It depends on one's definition of helpful...Miss Middleton."

She was already beginning to realize how peculiar this unique man could be. "Honestly I've told the Inspector all I know I swear it." His head dipped as he watched her through hooded eyes. "You swear by it? Interesting..."

She could tell he was off in his own head thinking but of what she couldn't possibly know. "May I leave then? I've cooperated and given my full account." His eyes snapped suddenly back to her face and they locked eyes for a tense moment.

Abruptly he smiled, his face giving nothing away, his eyes staying rightly suspicious. "Of course, Miss Middleton. You are here of your own free will, you may leave when you see fit. However, I'd stay in town for a good bit so you don't cause suspicion."

When she stood to leave Holmes' eyes strayed to her rather unbecoming attire and surprisingly she found herself blushing slightly under his gaze. As she strode determinedly away she never saw the the smirk that formed on his lips nor heard his silent promise that they'd meet again.

Rose was headed to a hotel to stay the night using her parents' money. She felt dead on her feet as she grabbed a bag full of her few belongings she'd hidden in a deserted back alley. As to not cause suspicion she pulled her hair out of the hat she'd been wearing and shook it out causing dark auburn ringlets to fall to her shoulders. She also removed her jacket opting to sling it over her arm leaving her only in a brown cotton button down shirt and black trousers clad with slightly too big black boots.

The desk clerk still gawked at her strange clothes as she rented out a room for two nights to start with. Apparently it was very unbecoming for a beautiful young woman to wear men's trousers when a big flamboyant dress was customary. She wouldn't be caught dead in a dress partly because they sucked the life out of you anyway and she felt she looked like an awkward duck when wearing one too.

Well she amended silently as she washed her face and prepared for bed, maybe it wouldn't be too bad to wear one if you were trying to impress a certain someone.

She opened the note that Malone had given her and gasped. He was right they were after him next. She believed him despite the possibility of this note being a fake. Tomorrow she would do some snooping around and try and figure who could have wanted Curtis Malone dead. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't run into Yellow Teeth again but something told her she would indeed be seeing him again.

Rose couldn't figure out what angle Detective Holmes was playing at exactly. Should she trust a man she knew nothing about? She has had horrible experiences with the law in the past but this man was different it seemed. With that she fell asleep thoughts of Holmes still swirling around in her mind.

Dr. John Watson walked with a skip in his step down the stairs of his new home, their new home. When he turned the corner into the kitchen he found his beautiful wife cooking breakfast for them. "Good Morning Mrs. Watson."

He never tired of saying her new name, the Mrs. rolling off his tongue eloquently in his British brogue. "Good morning, darling. Someone's happy today. Holmes told me you weren't a morning person though."

Watson fought the eye roll when his best friend was mentioned. "Of course I'm not a morning a person...when you wake me up at three in the morning to start the day." Mary giggled at the look on his face and walked over kissing him soundly on the lips.

At that moment a loud knock came at the door and Watson groaned in annoyance. "I swear if that's who I know it is, I'm gonna kill him." He grabbed his cane from it's place against the wall and limped towards the door. When he opened the door the irritating Holmes was standing on the other side.

"Holmes-" Holmes had already brushed past him and into the house not bothering with pleasantries and Watson sighed in defeat. When he made it back to the kitchen Holmes was seated in Watson's usual chair and his feet kicked up on the table munching on one of Mary's muffins.

"Holmes-" "-Hm...these are delicious Mary." Mary who was standing by the counter on the other side of the table smiled her face coloring slightly under the compliment. "Thank you Mr. Holmes I'm glad you like them."

Holmes smiled crookedly at her and winked. "Please call me Sherlock, I insist." Watson had had enough of this insufferable man and took his cane whacking Holmes' legs to get him to remove them from the breakfast table.

"Ow...my dear Watson that wasn't very kind now was it? If you wanted me to move my feet asking would have sufficed. One mustn't lash out in anger especially with said person's cane." Holmes frowned rubbing his legs slightly before removing them from their position on the edge of the table. "Holmes what could you possibly want at this hour of the morning?"

Holmes glanced over at Mary. "I told you he wasn't a morning person."

Mary smiled while Watson scowled. "Watson get your hat! We have a new case." Holmes clapped his hands together in anticipation. "_You_ have a new case, not we, old boy." Holmes didn't seem bothered by the negative answer. "Watson don't be a killjoy. It involves the Wet Bandit...and a curious young woman."

Holmes was trying to reel him in and Watson knew it but he had to admit his interest was peaked. They'd been looking for the notorious Wet Bandit for months and now they finally had a lead but still... "Holmes, no means _no._ Why can't you understand that concept?"

Holmes stood from his seat, the muffin he'd been eating long gone. "Because Watson you hardly ever say what you mean but suit yourself you'll be missing out."

Watson sighed solemnly. "I'm no longer missing out on anything, my place is here with my beautiful wife. We had a good run, old cock, but that time has come and gone." Holmes nodded, an unreadable expression on his face but his eyes were unquestionably sad. "Very well...goodbye old friend."

Holmes turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on his arm. "Holmes...Sherlock be careful." A look passed between them before Holmes left without another word giving one last nod to Mary.

Watson couldn't help but look a little longingly after his brother for all intents and purposes. "John, when I agreed to marry you I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew you had family in Holmes and I respected your loyalty and duty to him as his partner. And I knew of your passion for detective work and that you wouldn't want to give it up and I wasn't going to ask that of you. It's a part of who you are John. Don't throw that away to try to please me."

Watson looked back at Mary in uncertainty and she pushed at him. "Go, Go to your brother John. Working beside him is where you're supposed to be. Go." He looked into her eyes and only saw unconditional love for him.

Watson quickly grabbed his coat, scarf, hat and medical bag before turning back to Mary. "Mary, I love you so much." He kissed her passionately and she smiled against his lips. "And I love you, John Watson. Now go."

Grabbing his cane he left his house only to find Holmes leaning by his door on the other side, making smoke rings with his pipe. He simply shook his head at Holmes' antics. Of course he knew Mary would convince him to come along. "So where are we headed?" They walked side by side down the sidewalk. "The Wet Bandit's humble abode."

Watson raised his eyebrows in surprise. "We found him?" "Indeed we did. It turns out the infamous Wet Bandit's real name is Curtis Malone. He was found dead in his home at approximately one thirty a.m." Watson pursed his lips in thought. "Who found the body?"

Holmes made a peculiar face at this question. "The young woman I spoke of earlier by the name of Rose Middleton. She claims she came across him while taking a midnight stroll."

Holmes folded his arms behind his back ignoring Watson's questioning look. "You don't believe her?" He threw Watson an irritated look. "Would you believe such a story? You very well know people don't just go on strolls and definitely not in the middle of the night."

Watson could only nod deciding to wait till he spoke to her before he made such assumptions. "You think she has something to hide?" "I'm almost positive she lied to me about knowing the victim at least to the extent of seeing him before."

Watson watched Holmes speak of this maybe suspect and now couldn't wait to meet her himself. They showed up at the crime scene with Lestrade and Clarkie already there beginning to process the scene. Lestrade nodded politely at them before going right back to work while Clarkie walked over to shake their hands. "Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson." In turn they shook hands with Clarkie and he led them inside the house.

Watson went to inspect the body while Holmes took a look around the house. "Time of death around twelve to one in the morning..." He searched the body and only found a wallet with his ID. Holmes was at his side studying the man's appearance when Watson handed him the wallet. "Did you find anything?"

Watson glanced up at Holmes to see him holding out a needle wrapped in cloth. "That explains the bloody writing on the door." Holmes looked thoughtful. "Does it seem rather peculiar that a thief was having trouble paying the rent...he was almost two months behind. Supposedly the Wet Bandit had a big payday with the last house he robbed."

Watson scrunched his eyebrows in concentration. "That could mean one of two things: either he's giving it to someone else possibly a boss or this man isn't the Wet Bandit at all. But the second hardly makes sense this man fits the description of the criminal we've been after for the past several months."

Holmes shook his head. "That doesn't necessarily rule that possibility out though if we've quite simply been chasing the wrong man and they've been framing him since the beginning." Watson nodded his agreement as he stood from his crouched position. "Who's they?"

Holmes smiled as he stuck his pipe in his mouth and lit it. "Now that, my dear man, is the right question..." Holmes adjusted the hat on his head. "Watson, what do those letters look like to you?"

Watson stood to get a closer look squinting his eyes in concentration. "Roman numerals, but what does 79 have to do with any of this?"

Holmes grinned around the pipe in his mouth. "The game's afoot, Watson. Let us go."

They exited the building and Lestrade looked up questioningly. Watson opened his mouth to speak but Holmes beat him to it. "Don't worry Inspector we have a lead and I'll explain at a more convenient time. Come Watson, our appointment awaits!"

Watson looked at him like he had gone insane wondering what appointment were they going to exactly. Lestrade scowled slightly and shook his head but let them go. As they walked once more down the sidewalk Watson kept glancing at Holmes every couple minutes.

"Watson, why are looking at me with...such concern?" Purposely quoting Watson from not too long ago.

"I was actually wondering when you were going to let me in on where we're headed?" Holmes smirked. "All in good time" Watson rolled his eyes. "Right."

Soon they were standing in some hole in the wall bar that looked like it had seen better days. "Holmes..." Holmes silently shook his head to silence Watson's objections. Suddenly he turned abruptly eying Watson through narrowed eyes. "Watson remove your coat, scarf, hat and ...tie."

Watson frowned not moving. "Why?" Holmes' lips thinned. "Would you prefer to be robbed of your belongings?..." Watson immediately began doing as he was told. "...Just as I thought. Watson don't speak unless I address you and whatever you do don't make eye contact."

Watson looked confused and a little weary of what was to come. Holmes skillfully hid their belongings before heading into the bar, Watson at his heels eyes on the ground only looking up enough to watch where he was going. "Holmes, what a.._.surprise_." A gravelly voice sneered.

Holmes led them to the table where the owner of the voice was waiting. He was an older fellow with a huge beer belly and handle bar mustache. Holmes flashed a fake smile clearly uncomfortable. "Hello Mac. How are you today?" Mac made a disgusted face causing his forehead wrinkles to stand out.

"Enough with the pleasantries, you only visit when you want something...so what do you want?" Holmes chuckled slightly before becoming serious once more. "Are you familiar with the name Curtis Malone?" Mac scoffed as he lit a cigarette and blew it in their faces making Watson stifle a cough.

"What's that no good thieving scoundrel done now? Don't tell me he needs bailing out again." Holmes and Watson exchanged worried glances. "Uh...He's dead. He was murdered in the middle of the night last night."

Mac's facial expression remained unreadable. "Huh...well that's...too bad really. Who killed him?" "That's what we're trying to find out...do you know anybody who is overly fond of Roman numerals?" Mac hesitated a little too long checking his pocket watch before answering.

"No sorry boys. Listen I got to go you understand, places to go, people to see. I'll catch up with you two later." With that he heaved himself out of his seat and left them alone with really no more information then they came in with.

"Well, he sure left in a hurry. He was definitely hiding something...he may even have an idea who did it. Wait how did you know him anyway?" Holmes was silent for a moment not meeting Watson's eyes. "He was an...acquaintance of Irene's and he owed me one so I cashed in."

Holmes suddenly got up, leaving Watson at the table until he caught up with him and Watson knew Holmes would say no more about it. Watson quickly grabbed his belongings when he saw Holmes was not waiting on him. A woman yelled from down one of the alleyways and abruptly Holmes broke out in a run forcing Watson to chase after him at a much slower pace. Holmes turned the corner to see a large man standing over a woman who stood her ground not even flinching at his closeness. He slammed her against the wall but the woman merely glared daggers at him not showing an ounce of fear.

"I told ya to keep your nose out from where it doesn't belong, sugar, but you never listen do you? Now I'm saddened to say I'm gonna have to kill you." The man pulled a knife from his waist band but before he could bring it to her neck she stomped down hard on his foot and when he let go of her she head butted him in the nose.

As blood spewed from his nose Holmes knew it was broken and the man limped as quickly as he could away in the other direction. "I'm coming back for ya, sugar, and I'm gonna get ya." The man snarled in her direction one last time then he was gone.

Holmes stuck his hands in his coat pockets and waited for the woman to realize his presence. Rose brushed her clothes off before rubbing her head where it connected with the wall and winced in pain. She looked up in surprise when Holmes cleared this throat announcing his presence.

"Mr. Holmes..." He nodded pursing his lips as he leaned against the wall. "Miss Middleton," "Please don't say I told you so." He smirked. "Wouldn't think of saying such a thing. It would seem I didn't need to." "How did you find me?"

"What makes you think I was looking for you? I thought I was coming to the aid of a woman in trouble but it seems you had everything under control." She grabbed her bag which had been thrown on the ground in all the chaos.

Watson came running around the corner at that moment attempting to catch his breath but his eyes widened in surprise at who Holmes was with. "Are you alright?" She smiled politely at Watson. "Indeed. Thank you for your concern."

Once he caught his breath he stuck his hand out for her to shake. "Dr. John Watson, Holmes' partner." "My pleasure, Dr. Watson. I'm Rose Middleton." Recognition flashed in his eyes at the name. He turned to Holmes who was staring at Rose. "So this was the woman you spoke of?" Holmes simply nodded never taking his eyes off her.

She saw the question on Holmes' face and knew she'd been caught in her lies. She sighed in defeat. "If we can talk more privately, I'll tell you everything I know." And with that Holmes and Watson led Rose to 221B Baker Street. Rose stared up at the lamp as they walked up the stairs to the front door. When they came in an older woman with her hair pinned up in a bun smiled politely at Watson.

Dr. Watson smiled widely at the woman, clearly happy to see her. "Mrs. Hudson, how are you on this fine day?" "Better now that you're here to keep him in line, dear." Watson chuckled while Holmes seemed impatient to get up the stairs to his room or so Rose thought.

Mrs. Hudson turned to her. "Hello dear, I'm Mrs. Hudson...Holmes' house keeper." Rose smiled. "I'm Rose Middleton." "Beautiful name for a beautiful young woman." Holmes had had enough and grabbed her elbow and she quickly called out a thank you to the nice woman. Mrs. Hudson scowled at Holmes while Watson smiled sympathetically and Rose realized this must be Holmes' normal behavior.

Holmes sat her on his red sofa and crossed his arms waiting for her to explain herself. Watson asked Mrs. Hudson to bring some tea for the house guest and she readily agreed, before he followed them into what appeared to be Holmes' room. It was a jumbled mess even to Rose's standards and she could be quite messy herself. She noticed the owls in their cages and wondered the purpose of them since Holmes didn't seem the type to keep owls as pets, he seemed the reptile type.

He gave her a look and she knew it was time to explain. "As you've probably figured out I wasn't out on a midnight stroll but when I said I'd never met him before that night I was telling the truth. The only thing I left out was that I talked to him before he died but I wasn't there for long and I didn't kill him...I wanted to though. I came with the intent to wrong a right and almost killed an innocent man...well at least of the crime I thought he committed."

Holmes looked unsurprised while Watson looked deep inside his thoughts. "So let me get this straight, you showed up ready to kill him in justification of previous possible actions. What made you decide not to kill him?" Rose fiddled with her hands not meeting either of their eyes.

"It was the way he said it. He was sincere, well for a criminal anyway and I just couldn't go through with it." Holmes frowned. "You believed a thief and possible killer when he said he didn't kill someone?"

Rose didn't know how to answer that because it was true, she took a man who lies for a living at his word but she didn't regret not killing him. She wasn't that kind of person and she never would be. When Rose raised the gun at Malone it had merely been a scare tactic, a way of getting him to cooperate.

Watson spoke for the first time. "You thought he killed someone you cared very deeply for." Rose looked up at him and nodded. "My parents, were visiting London. They rented an apartment a couple blocks from here I think. I was back in America when I got a call from my mother asking for me to come visit them. They were considering moving here. I was so excited it had been a while since I'd seen them in person. I came only to find a flooded apartment...and them lying face down in the water..."

Rose's jaw trembled and she bit down hard on her lip to get it to stop quivering. "I was so angry and hurt I just wanted to find the murderer and make them suffer as I have. I dedicated these past couple months to finding the culprit and didn't have a single lead until this Curtis Malone guy came along...I really thought I had my parents' killer too."

Watson looked truly empathetic of her story and even patted her hand awkwardly trying to offer some comfort. Holmes on other hand had turned his back to her and was staring out the window. This story had rallied memories of when he wanted vengeance for the tragic death of Irene Adler and on some level understood Rose's need to bring her parents' killer to justice.

He would never admit it but he was glad Rose hadn't succeeded in killing her parents' maybe murderer because that satisfying feeling of accomplishing his goal didn't compare to the sometimes guilt he felt at playing God when he really had no right. Suffice it to say, if given a second chance he would change none of Moriarty's deserved fate.

Watson, trying to lighten the mood smiled and went to open the door when Mrs. Hudson knocked on it. "Thank you Mrs. Hudson. Now that we got that out of the way...tea anyone?" Rose gratefully accepted the cup of tea she was handed and smiled warmly at Watson. She was beginning to see that Dr. John Watson was a man she could easily get along with and could even see herself friends with in the possible near future. Holmes was another story entirely while all over quite strange and inconsiderate more times then not, he had the potential of being a good man. He was a genius and even after only knowing him less than twenty four hours she knew she would never meet another like him. It was then she remembered she had yet to show them the note Malone had given her.

Rose carefully pulled the note from her pocket and held it out for Holmes to take. "Malone gave me this before he died, said that the people who killed my parents were coming for him next." Holmes took the note in his hands studying it and turning it over in his hands before giving it to Watson to look at it.

"Do we know anyone who could have done this?" Watson inquired.

Holmes brow furrowed. "What about the man in the alley? He seemed rather intent on ending your life." Rose shrugged wanting to know the answer to that as well.

"I'm not sure. That has been the third time he tried to kill me. The first two times he wasn't anymore successful." Rose pulled out the stolen gun from her waist band. "I took this from him the second time we met. I was going to use it to...do my bidding later."

Holmes turned to her holding his hand out to examine the gun for himself. Watson's expression was curious. "And the first?" Rose took a sip of her tea before answering. "He merely warned me to stay out of the way and go back to America but that only made me work harder to figure things out because the guy obviously knew a great deal more about me than I wanted him to."

Watson sat down in a comfy chair and kicked his feet up. "Why not go to the authorities? If you were being threatened it would have been the safe thing to do."

Rose bit her lip. "Because I'm not from here and I was scared and alone. I didn't trust anyone would help me even Scotland Yard. And I'm not one to ask for help. I've been doing things on my own for so long why would I think I need help now?"

Holmes placed the gun on the table in front of the sofa where Rose was seated. "Of course Miss Middleton that's completely understandable but now you have the great fortune of meeting Detective Sherlock Holmes and his noble sidekick Dr. John Watson. We are here to help, my dear."

Holmes gave his best crooked smile showing surprisingly pearly white teeth. Rose realized then that she loved his smile. It seemed to spread across his entire face, lighting up his eyes making him look considerably younger.

Watson had a fake pout on his face. "Sidekick...I'll show you sidekick."

She stifled a small laugh at his grumblings. "Okay, but on one condition..." Watson looked up from his place in the chair while Holmes raised a dark eyebrow at her. "I want to help with this case." Rose stood up when she said this trying to look intimidating but when you're only 5'6'' that's a mean feat.

Holmes frowned. "No can do. Sorry but there are no third wheels on cases. Hence the title partners."

Rose sighed knowing that would probably be his answer. "Please I could help with the case. I may not be the most observant person in the world but I could be useful. My parents were somehow involved in this you may need me."

Watson looked at Holmes now siding with Rose. "She has a point, Holmes." Holmes shook his head tersely. "All the more reason for her not to be involved. It's dangerous, men who killed her parents could be after her next."

Rose crossed her arms frustrated now. "I'm well aware but if I'm with two strong capable men it's better than being off alone."

Holmes' lips thinned. "Watson isn't that strong." Watson threw him a dirty look which Holmes ignored.

"If you don't let me help I'll only find another way to get involved. Somebody killed people I loved I won't stop until they are rightfully punished." Watson smirked wondering how Holmes was going to take that ultimatum.

Holmes pinched the bridge of his nose and Rose knew she had him. "Very well. However, you will do exactly as I say and you will stay out from under my feet. Is that understood?" Holmes' jaw was clenched and Watson was still shocked Rose had got him to cave.

She smiled triumphantly, a little smug about it. "Completely"


End file.
